All Will Be Well
by Loser Got Lucky
Summary: It's not easy dealing with grief... Sometimes all you need to do is let it all out. "I will not leave you." Alistair/Amell


**Greetings! I wrote this fluffy drabble at 2 in the morning, re-read it the next day and didn't think it was too bad (better than some of the other stuff that I write in the early hours of the morning...), so I thought I'd share it with you.  
Those that follow me and perhaps got a alert saying I'd written something new may be surprised that it is Dragon Age... All I have to say to those loyal few is thank you for at least showing some interest in me, and that I will be returning with a new story for Kingdom Hearts soooon. In fact, one is already half-written, yay!**

**But for everyone here on this board, my name is BlacAngel, and I am in love with Dragon Age...and Alistair to that extent :) He's so wonderfully awkward. Anyway, I thought that this would be a good scene from the game, and that they didn't pay much attention to how Alistair must be feeling...so I had a play around ;)**

**Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Bioware has the rights over all characters and places in the game, DragonAge: Origins. I don't even have rights over my own character, which sucks. **

**NOTE: Female Human Mage character used. I will use the preset names for all the characters, should this fic go down well and I choose to write more. **

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With a sigh, Solona pulled her knees closer to her chest as she stared into the flames before her, tossing in the thin branch she'd been poking it with. Resting her chin on her knees, she shuddered in a sudden breeze. It had been two weeks since the fight at Ostagar, and so far Alistair had shown no signs of coming out of the silence he'd receded into.

She turned her head to look at him; he was sat on the edge of the camp, his back to her and his head bowed. Morrigan hadn't noticed his misery, or she was ignoring it. Solona guessed she was ignoring it, but she didn't feel as if she could ask the witch as of yet; they were still strangers, a fact that was made evermore obvious by the fact that Morrigan was far off on the other side of the clearing, her tent set up away from Alistair's and her own.

The Mabari she'd adopted whined softly from his place at her side, raising his head to look over at the grieving templar before looking at Solona in an almost accusing way. She reached out and absent-mindedly scratched him behind the ears, her own thoughts turbulent.

She and Alistair had nearly died on top the tower at Ostagar; it was a terrifying thought. At the Tower of the Magi, life-threatening situations didn't crop up often, so it was first for her. _As a Grey Warden, this is something that I will have to become accustomed to,_ she thought as she watched her Mabari's leg twitch as she scratched his ears. _And yet…I cannot help but feel fearful of what mine and Alistair's future will hold. With us being the only Grey Wardens in Ferelden, we have no room for mistakes. _

Yawning, she slowly rose to her feet, dislodging her dog from his comfy spot. He stretched before trotting off into the darkness, his small stump of a tail wagging frantically. Shaking her head, Solona crossed her arms over her chest to help conserve warmth as she slowly walked over to where Alistair was huddled. The warmth of the fire faded from her back, causing her to shiver; she didn't know if iron was a good insulator against the cold of the night, but her Mage's Robes certainly weren't.

Alistair didn't seem to detect her approach. She stood a few paces away from him before clearing her throat, causing him to startle.

"Are you well, Alistair?" she asked quietly in a slightly formal voice. His shoulder's sagged as he sighed.

"Oh, I'm fine. Peachy in fact," he muttered, still not turning to face her.

"It is futile for you to lie to me, Alistair," she retorted, taking a step towards him, her voice still overly formal for the current situation. The wind whipped her usually neat blond hair, the golden strands blowing over her face. She impatiently reached up to beat them back, only to have them return to the same position as the wind continued to blow. Giving up, she edged her way closer to Alistair, her steps slow and careful. Solona wasn't one to ever offer comfort or condolences; her logical and calculated thoughts often cut her off from others, simply because she came across being cold, which wasn't necessarily the case. She just wasn't sure on how to act around people.

"Alistair?" she said softly, reaching out slowly before placing her hand on his shoulder. His armour was freezing, and she held back a shudder.

"I told you, _I'm fiiine,"_ Alistair sighed, looking over his shoulder at her. His eyes were rimmed red, and his lips and nose tinged blue from the cold. But under all that, all Solona could see was the face of a terrified man who had no idea what he was supposed to do. And it touched her.

Her severe and strict face softened; her dark blue eyes lost their frigidity and seemed to lighten to the blue of a summer's day. Suddenly, all of her problems seemed insignificant; that she was cold, that it was dark, there journey looked hopeless and the stupid wind just wouldn't let up and _stop messing her hair…_ it all paled next to the terror and hopelessness that was on her fellow Grey Warden's face.

"Come, Alistair; you are freezing," she muttered softly, patting his shoulder and gesturing for him to get up and follow her. For a few moments it appeared that he would refuse to move, and would stay there like a watchful statue for the rest of the night… but he sighed heavier than Solona thought people could sigh and turned to follow her, dragging his feet with his head lowered like a sulking child. Even so, she nodded her approval and beckoned him closer to the welcoming heat of the fire. She disappeared into her tent for a few moments before returning with a thick fleece clutched to her chest. "Here," she stated, dropping it on the floor next to him before taking a few steps back, looking almost nervous.

Alistair flicked his eyes between the fleece and her face for a few moments, before shrugging his hands out of his iron-backed gloves and undoing the numerous buckles that held his breastplate in place. With a grunt, he pulled it up over his head and deposited it in a neat heap, revealing a thin, moss-coloured shirt underneath before taking up the fleece and wrapping it around his shoulders.

"Thanks," he muttered moodily, staring into the fire as Solona had been doing mere minutes before. She lowered herself to the ground on the other side of the fire and once more pulled her knees to her chest.

"You are welcome." They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the snapping of the wood in the flames and the occasional whistle of the wind through the tree that surrounded the camp. There was the odd scuffling sound and a booming bark of the Mabari every now and again…but other than that it was peaceful.

"Do…do you wish to talk, Alistair?" Solona blurted out suddenly over the fire, just as the blond man was beginning to drop off.

"Huh? Whazzat?" he muttered sleepily, focusing on her.

"Do you wish to talk? About Duncan?" she said softly, her voice only just audible over the fire. Alistair's face fell, and he looked down at the ground between them, all heat from the fire robbed by the icy sorrow that flooded across from her companion.

"…No. I'm fine, like I said. Fit as a fiddle, as they say," he babbled, attempting a grin that looked more painful than a smile should. Solona watched him, a worried and unhappy look on her face. She stood up and approached him, swallowing loudly with nervousness. She'd never done this herself…but the other female apprentices had often comforted each other in such a manner. "What…what are you doing? What do you want?" Alistair stammered, watching with trepidation as the young mage approached him, her long blond hair streaming over her shoulder, the two neat braids that hung on either side of her face whipping about her. She knelt before him, parting the fleece that he'd wrapped around himself like a cocoon. She crept forward before placing her hands on his shoulders and slowly sliding her arms around his neck, and pulling him forward into an awkward hug. Her hand was cold on the back of his neck as she guided him, pulling him closer. The other hand rested lightly on his shoulder, raising goosebumps through the thin material of his shirt. His own arms hung uselessly at his side, his shock too great. From what he'd learnt from his fellow Grey Warden, she didn't _do_ physical contact. Ever.

"It will be well, Alistair," she whispered into his ear, her arms warm around him, the fleece flapping at her sides. "You need not feel as if you must hide your misery from me. We are companions, and I wish to aid you whenever I can. If you feel the need to speak with me, then you need only ask. If you need comfort, then I will do whatever it takes to put you at ease." She sighed, her body relaxing against his, her presence welcoming. "I cannot assist you if you do not let me in," she whispered, and Alistair could almost hear the smile in her voice. Which was scary because he's never seen her smile. Ever.

"Please, Solona…don't…" Alistair muttered, tears catching at the back of his throat as he felt his eyes beginning to water. The only way for him to deal with his grief was to bottle it up inside, to let it freeze into a lump of loneliness that he would carry forever. Her kindness was thawing that frosty sadness, and he didn't know if he could deal with it without breaking down.

"It will be well, Alistair," she repeated gently, rubbing a small circle on his back while her other hand teased the short blond hair at the back of his head. "For I am here, and I shall not leave you."

That was it. Shuddering, Alistair suddenly clung to the woman, his arms coming up and embracing her roughly, crushing her against him as he buried his face into her shoulder, tears flowing from his eyes. He shook with sobs that he'd tried so desperately to hold in, clinging to Solona like the terrified boy she knew he'd been reduced to by the loss of Duncan, and the idea that the fate of Ferelden rested with the two of them.

Her eyes widened at the sudden urgency that Alistair held her, how his arm fitted around her shoulders and held her close, his other looped around her waist while he cried softly into her shoulder. And not once did she feel repulsed, like when the apprentices at the Circle had embraced her on the odd occasion. This felt…right. Like this was always where she was supposed to be.

Solona did not know how long they stayed like that, she holding up the Templar that greatly outweighed her and he that cried over the loss of his home and family, but it did not matter. His sobs eventually stopped, and he managed to compose himself, taking his face away from her shoulder, and drawing her close to his chest. Suddenly she was the one being dwarfed and held, instead of the other way around. Sighing, she settled into his embrace, reaching up to brush her hair from her face.

"Thank you, Solona," Alistair said quietly, smiling down at her. She blinked a few times in confusion, before smiling back. A smile transformed her face from a strict and uptight adult back to the young woman that she truly was. It took one's breath away to see such a transformation.

"You are welcome," she answered back in the same hushed tone. As comfortable as she was, she felt enough time had been spent in the others embrace, and carefully attempted to pull herself away. Alistair hastily complied, releasing her completely and letting her stumble up, his face tinged pink as he reflected on their close proximity. "I am but on the other side of the camp if you require me." She nodded at him, a small smile on her face as she walked to her tent, the gentle sway of her hips captivating the templar. "I shall not leave you, Alistair. Remember that." With a rustle of material, Solona disappeared into her tent.

_I suppose it's true what they say then, _Alistair thought to himself as he stood to go to his own tent. The pain of Duncan's death was still raw in his chest…but it felt dulled, somehow, and not as biting. His future did not look so bleak and hopeless as it once did…possibly due to the blond mage who promised to stick it through with him to the end.

_Not bottling up your emotions really _does_ help. Who would've thought?_

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**Doesn't fluff warm the cockles of your heart? :D**

**Overly fluffy, doesn't make much sense, isn't that well written... I know, I'm not that great. Right now.**

**That's where all you lovely people come in! If you read this all the way through, then please please please review and let me know what you think. What did you like? What did you hate? Alistair out of character? Is Solona a Mary-Sue? Do I need shooting for making her as such? Whatever you thought, I would be overjoyed to hear your opinions. I enjoyed writing this story more than I should, and I really want to write more, but only if people are enjoying them.**

**Thanks for reading, everyone! Thank you's in advance!**


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